Partners in Crime
by wickedbad
Summary: "Best friends. It's not like we'd ever want it any other way."


" _...You'll always be my best friend, my right hand man, my partner in crime…"_

Chris meant everything to him. Josh wasn't sure when he realized, but the thought always brought him back to summer, the break just before he became a sophomore. He and Chris had decided to take a trip to the pier, finally free from their first year of high school. Josh had biked over to Chris's house and waited for him outside, eager to spend the first evening of summer with his best friend.

The outside of Chris's house was simple; no where near as elaborate as the house that he called home, but Josh didn't mind. Sometimes, it was the simple things he loved the most. He loved the trim Chris's father spent hours perfecting on their hedges; he loved the red tulips that Chris's mother lined along the front porch. The atmosphere of the Hartley home was comfortable - perhaps that was what he always liked about Chris.

"Hey," Chris's voice called from the opening garage. Josh parked his bike, a smile stretching across his face as his best friend appeared behind the lifting door. Chris stood behind his bike, placing his helmet on his head and sighing as it shifted sideways. "I think this one's busted… Maybe I can ask my parent's for one for my birthday."

Josh chuckled as he kicked out the stand of his bike and strolled over to his struggling friend. He reached out and grabbed the strap of the helmet, connecting the loose fabric to the buckle. When it clicked, he placed his hands on the side of the helmet, perfecting it to Chris's head. "Nah, bro; I think this one suits you fine."

"Alright," Chris smiled as he hopped onto the seat, "Let's get going, man. I bet you can't beat me there."

Josh snorted, "I could beat you there and back without breaking a sweat; I'm truly a natural, future Tour de France title-holder."

Chris raised an eyebrow as he cocked his head, "How about you put your money where your mouth is, jerk off," He laughed as he took off on his bike, zipping down his street as quickly as he could. He lifted a hand from the handle to wave back, taunting his friend.

"Idiot," Josh rolled his eyes as he jogged over to his own bike, following behind Chris as he vanished to the next street. The white-paneled houses with evenly trimmed lawns flew past as he trekked on, the wind blowing through the short bits of dark hair sticking out beneath his helmet. He hoped he would never get older; he would miss this too much.

They reached the pier in presumably record time. Chris was waiting at the start of the dock, a smirk plastered across his face. When Josh approached, he lifted his hands in the air, laughing, "Ooh, I bet Lance Armstrong is shaking in his boots."

Josh shoved Chris's chest, "Keep gloating and I'm not giving you your trophy," He grinned, finishing the look off with a wink before walking past his friend and toward the brightly lit festival.

The two of them walked side by side down the dock, the flashing red, white, and yellow lights dancing across the pavement. The smell of popcorn and funnel cake filled the air; the true scent of summer. The sun was almost finished dipping below the horizon, nearly hidden beneath the dark ocean waves. The water crashed against the wooden support beams, seagulls squawking in the distance.

Josh stopped in front of the small arcade, looking up at the glistening neon sign. He turned back with a grin, "Alright, you might be the better cyclist, but I know for a fact you can't beat my score in Pac-Man, bro."

"Dude, you know you only won because the system glitched. I totally would've owned your ass if given a proper working machine," Chris folded his arms across the front of his chest, pretending to pout.

"Willing to put your money where your mouth is, _jerk off?_ " Josh winked as he backed into the arcade, a wide-eyed smile stretched across his face as he tossed a quarter in Chris's direction.

Chris reached out to snatch the coin in his hand, holding it tightly in his grasp. He rolled his eyes as he followed Josh into the dark arcade, the rhythm of synthetic beats filling his ears. How did he get so lucky to have such a great best friend?

After a few rounds of gaming, the boys stepped out of the arcade. Josh crossed his arms, a sour look on his face as Chris tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "Dude, you need to stop making bets. It is not your lucky day."

"Yeah," Josh mumbled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked toward the edge of the dock, placing his palms on the wooden railing. Behind the sea, the sky had turned orange-pink, and the sun had almost vanished.

"Aw, we've got ourselves a sore loser, don't we?" Chris laughed as he smacked his friend on the back, taking his place next to him by the railing.

Josh scoffed, "In your dreams, man. As you said, a proper working machine really makes the difference."

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they stared out in the distance, watching the birds fly back and forth along the beach below. The carnival games in the background filled the quiet, giving life to the peaceful ambiance. Out of his peripheral, Josh noticed Chris looking in the opposite direction, his mind somewhere else. There was something about his distant stare that drew Josh into him; was Chris thinking about him just as he was? Did Chris know that each time he crinkled his nose when he laughed Josh's stomach flipped. Did he know that the occasional - and very much accidental - brushes of skin made his heart skip a beat.

 _Shit_ , he cursed to himself, _You aren't supposed to feel this way about your best friend._

But, he couldn't help it. There was something about Chris he couldn't help but love. Perhaps it was the calm he brought with him; the sense of home he felt whenever he visited the Hartley's house; the way Chris would offer up his jacket if Josh had ever left his behind.

Maybe it was the time Chris stood up for him when the kids at school laughed at him when they found out something was wrong. Maybe it was the time Chris said he cared about him after he told him about his mental illness. Maybe it was just the feeling of being wanted by someone that didn't _have_ to want him.

Is that why it hurt so much when Chris mentioned Ashley for the first time?

He remembered sitting in cafeteria, anxiously waiting for Chris to arrive so they could share stories about their first day in class and the people they just couldn't stand. His eyes lit up when he saw him, and his heart fluttered when he noticed the toothy smile Chris was giving him.

"Dude," Chris exhaled as he slid into one of the chairs, drumming his palms on the wooden exterior of the rounded table. "You are not going to believe this girl in my geometry class. She's, like, perfect! Her name is Ashley, and she's got the cutest laugh I've ever heard in my _life_."

Josh felt his throat tighten as his smile vanished. "Oh," He cursed to himself as he forced the grin back on his face, "Well, dude, that's awesome. You gotta ask her out, man; it's probably like your destiny. Who knows what might happen if you don't."

"Eh, I don't know," Chris pressed his back against the plastic chair, propping his elbow on the table to rest his chin on. "She's really good looking - like way out of my league, honestly. She's probably not even interested in me."

Josh half-smiled, "Bro, you're a good looking guy; she'd be an idiot if she didn't feel the same," He nodded his head, trying to force himself to appear as normal as possible. It was beginning to feel hopeless as he couldn't stop his heart from racing; he was surprised Chris couldn't hear it. Or, perhaps he was too caught up in teenage lust to notice.

Chris reached out and gave Josh's shoulder a slight punch, making his body sway slightly, "Dude, you're awesome, you know that. This is why you'll always be my best friend, my right hand man, my partner in crime?" He chuckled as he raised an eyebrow, sliding his cellphone out his pocket as he began to scroll through his text messages.

 _Yeah_ , Josh thought as he brought his eyes to the floor, trying to stop his hands from shaking, _Best friends. It's not like we'd ever want it any other way._


End file.
